Na Einai Kalitero Anthropo Apo Ton Patera Tou
by oconnellaboo
Summary: Set between 5.08 and 5.09. Olivia brings Peter back to the lab after he removes the tech, but it's not exactly the homecoming you'd expect. Don't own them, can't believe it's almost over! Props, thanks and hugs to the Best Beta in Betadom, DixieGirl256. Now complete, after a long delay!
1. Chapter 1

_Na __Einai__ Kalitero Anthropo Apo Ton Patera Tou_

Walter Bishop adjusted the calibration on the neural scanner before him and frowned. Olivia and Peter would arrive shortly, and he needed to be sure the readings would correct when he examined Peter; it wouldn't do if he declared Peter fit, and then the boy went on some sort of Observer killing spree.

The door to the lab opened with a creak, and a breathless Olivia appeared, Peter practically draped over her like a second coat. "Could I get a hand?" she pleaded.

Walter barely looked up. "Astralagus, please?" he said briskly.

Astrid was already halfway across the room. "Peter!" she exclaimed, slinging Peter's other arm over her shoulder. "Peter, can you hear me?"

Peter's head lifted slightly at the sound of her voice; Astrid couldn't help but gasp. Blood coated his neck, staining his jacket and the shirt beneath. His eyes were glassy and bloodshot; it took him some time to focus on her face, but a weak smile formed as he slurred, "Astrid."

She returned a relieved smile through her tears, and reached out to touch his cheek. "There you are," she breathed. "Thank God. There you are."

"Bring him over here, please," Walter instructed as the trio staggered toward him. "Peter, do you know where you are? Do you know who I am?" he asked, gripping Peter's arms to steady him.

Peter nodded painfully. "Walter?"

"Good." He saw Peter's brow crease in confusion. "What is it, son?"

"I… think I'd like that pain medication now, okay?" he said in a tight, quiet voice.

"Unfortunately, I can't do that, " Walter replied bluntly. "I can't run the risk of anything interfering with whatever is happening in your brain now that you've removed the tech."

"Walter, he's in a lot of pain," Astrid countered. She could feel him trembling as she helped Olivia with him, and he seemed to be getting paler by the second.

"Yes, well, he should've thought of that before he did something so monumentally stupid, hadn't he?" Walter snapped.

"Walter!" Olivia barked.

"Liv… 's'okay," Peter said as he sat down on the exam table.

Walter began removing Peter's clothes; the blood soaked jacket and shirt were dropped on the floor, leaving Peter shivering and bare from the waist up. Walter reached behind Peter's neck to untie the leather cord holding his wedding ring. "Please…" Peter protested softly. "Don't?"

"It has to come off. I need full access to the wound," Walter replied, untying the cord.

"It's all right, Peter," Olivia soothed. "I'll hold onto it." She took the bloody cord from Walter and squeezed it in her palm, holding it against her heart. Smiling at Peter, she said, "Okay?"

"Okay," he said, lowering his head to his chest as Walter examined the wound on the back of his neck.

"Well, you did a rather good job with the incision. I suppose you had some practice when you put the thing _in_ your neck, so I'm not surprised." Peter started to lift his head, but Walter put a firm hand on his hair. "Stay still, I need to work."

After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, Peter said, "I'm sorry, Walter."

"Why? Were you sorry before, when you were about to go out there and kill Windmark? Are you sorry for abandoning everything we've been working toward, just to follow your own selfish path?" Walter walked around to face Peter. "Are you sorry for _this_?" He pushed the left sleeve of his lab coat to reveal a pale bruise around his arm – exactly where Peter had grabbed him during their conversation earlier.

Peter reached out with a shaking hand. "Oh, God… Walter… I didn't… "

"Didn't what? Didn't think? I thought that's all you were doing. You didn't _care_ who you hurt." Walter snatched his hand away before Peter could touch him.

"Walter, stop it," Astrid warned him. "What are you doing?"

"That's enough, Walter," Olivia added.

"No," Peter said in a voice full of self-recrimination. His head pounded; his vision swam. But he took a breath, and looked directly at Walter. "I'm so sorry I hurt you, Walter. I didn't mean to, I swear."

"Didn't you? I was in your way. I was trying to stop you. And isn't that what Observers do? They simply remove the obstacles in their way by any means necessary. Good God, Peter, what were you thinking? You promised me! You said you would help me, and then you did this, all for yourself. You became one of the monsters who murdered your child!" Walter shouted.

Peter closed his eyes in pain, both physical and emotional. "I have no excuse, Walter. You're right."

"Did you enjoy not feeling anything? Did that make everything better for you? To run away from the pain of being human? To run away from your dead child? From Olivia? From me? But then, that's what you do. You run away. Didn't you do that to your mother in the other timeline? You ran away from her when she needed you."

"God! Walter!" Astrid cried.

"You ran away with _him_ when you got angry at Olivia and me. And you ran away when Etta went missing. Because that's what you do. You abandoned us because _that's what you do_."

"I didn't," Peter said, his voice heavy with pain and exhaustion. "I didn't abandon you. I needed to find Etta. I needed to find our daughter, and bring her home. For all of us. Because I loved her. And because you loved her. I needed to find her because of the days she spent here with you, playing with Gene and listening to Violet Sedan Chair with you. Because of the times she spent with Astrid, pretending to knit. Because of the Sunday mornings she'd come running into our bedroom and jump on us to wake us up. I had to find her for my family, Walter. For all of us." He tiredly wiped the tears that had fallen. "I had a family, Walter. For the first time. You say I abandoned you? I stayed here and searched for my baby girl. I didn't go anywhere. _You all left me_. You all left."

He swayed slightly on his feet. Olivia took a step toward him, but he waved her off. "I… I can't. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…" He turned and fled the room, leaving a stunned Olivia, Astrid, and Walter in his wake.

"I'll go, make sure he's okay," Astrid said, rushing after him.

Walter turned to Olivia. "Olivia, I – "

Olivia's hand connected with Walter's cheek, snapping his head back. "How dare you," she growled. "How dare you do this to him, say those things to him."

"He was supposed to be a better man," Walter argued. "He was supposed to help me. And look what he did!"

"Yes, look at what he did. And look at what _you_ did."

"I know what a man is capable of when he grieves. Peter should have known better."

"But he didn't know, Walter. All he could do was feel. And we gave him no outlet. He had to be strong for us. He _always_ has to be strong for us. Who's strong for him?" Walter opened his mouth to speak, but she continued, "And don't you ever compare _this_ to what _you_ did. The only person Peter hurt here was himself. How many people did you hurt, Walter? How many lives have you ruined?" She gestured down to Walter's hands, still covered with Peter's blood from the first aid session. " How much blood is on your hands?"

"I know," Walter said dejectedly, his face crumpling. "I was just… I was frightened."

"You were frightened," Olivia said in disgust. "God, I'm sorry Etta and Simon ever put those pieces of your brain back. Because if _this_," she said, waving her arms angrily at Walter, "If this is the man Peter had to deal with growing up, it's no wonder he was glad when you were sent to St. Claire's."

Astrid followed Peter as far as the doorway to their room and hesitated. "Peter," she called softly inside. A second later, she heard a groan and a muffled thud. Rushing into the room, she found Peter on the floor next to the bed, shaking violently. "Oh, God," she said, crouching next to him. "Olivia! Come quick! He's having a seizure!"

Olivia ran into the room and stared in horror at Astrid struggling to keep Peter from hurting himself as he seized. Walter rushed in behind her with a syringe. "Move!" he commanded. Olivia stepped aside, and Walter crouched next to Astrid. "Hold his leg, please, Astrid," he said softly; as soon as she grabbed Peter's jeans-clad leg, Walter stabbed the syringe into his thigh, depressing the plunger.

It took a few endless seconds until Peter began to calm, his clenched hands relaxing. He slumped bonelessly against Astrid, who had maintained her iron grip on him throughout the seizure. "You're okay now," she murmured as she combed her hand through his hair and kissed the crown of his head. "You're gonna be okay now."

Walter moved over on the floor to allow Olivia to join them. "Peter?" Receiving no response, she looked fearfully at Astrid, who offered her a watery smile.

"It's okay, he's breathing, Olivia," she reassured her.

"Peter," Walter said in a stronger voice. "Peter, I need you to say something, son. Talk to us."

"Come on, Peter, please?" Olivia pleaded. He slurred something nearly incoherent; Olivia's hand flew to her mouth, a heartbroken smile on her face. At Astrid and Walter's confused looks, she said, "He said, 'It's your turn to change her, sweetheart.'" Tears fell, but she laughed.

"Walter?" Astrid looked to the older man.

"Hm. Peter, you need to get up." Again, Peter's words were slurred. "What was that, son?"

"No school today. 'S' a holiday…" Peter muttered, trying to snuggle closer to Astrid.

"So it is," Walter said gently. "It's all right. I think his mind is rebooting itself. His temporal lobe and amygdala are most likely rejecting the effects of the Observer tech, and are trying to regain control of Peter's thought processes. Hence, the seizure. Memory and emotion are winning out over super-rational thought. That's why he's remembering these kinds of moments – quiet moments, moments of rest, of peace and safety and home."

"Home," Peter sighed as his eyes opened. Blearily, he looked up at Astrid. "What… " At the realization that he was on the floor in her arms, he said, "Awkward."

Chuckling, Olivia stroked his cheek. "I don't think your wife will object," she offered.

"Son, are you with us?" Walter asked, his fingers pressed against Peter's neck to check his pulse.

"Dunno," Peter replied, rubbing a shaking hand across his face.

"That'll do for now," Walter said brightly. "Up you go, I need to do a scan, and I can't very well do it here on the floor!"

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	2. Chapter 2

Nai Einai 2

"_Daddy, look how pretty I am! I'm almost as pretty as Mommy!" _

"_Prettiest two girls in the whole wide world!"_

"_I keep asking her if she wouldn't prefer her jeans when we go to the park today, but no, she just has to wear her pink dress," Olivia sighed._

"_Any particular reason?"_

"_It's just Pink Dress Day. Didn't you hear?" Olivia rolled her eyes and laughed._

"_Damn, and mine's at the dry cleaners," Peter chuckled. "So, where's yours?"_

"_I wear black," Olivia said, her voice turning cold._

"_Daddy, I wanna go!" Etta whined._

"_I wear black because she's dead."_

"_Daddy!"_

"_I wear black because you killed her."_

"_Daddy, why aren't we going?"_

"_Because you killed her."_

"_That's not logical. I would not kill my own child."_

"_Daddy, why did you leave without me?"_

"_You left me. You're one of them, and you killed her…"_

"_Daddy!"_

Peter started awake with a gasp, a searing pain coursing through his head. "Ah, you're back," Walter said, smiling. He stepped over to the gurney and gently removed the electrodes from Peter's head.

"How… " He coughed to clear his throat, sending another knife of pain into his skull. "How'd I get here?"

"What's the last thing you remember?"

"I… I was in the bedroom. I couldn't breathe, and then I heard… I was in the bedroom, and then suddenly I was here," he said abruptly. "How did…"

"I carried you." At Peter's incredulous expression, Walter shrugged. "You're surprisingly light for someone your size. You said you heard something. What did you hear?" Walter encouraged him.

"Nothing," he said, his voice choked with emotion.

"You heard Etta, didn't you?" Peter nodded hesitantly, wincing. "I understand. After… after the Peter I remember died, I would hear him calling to me, asking me why I didn't save him. Why I didn't try like I did with my own son." The two men were silent for a moment, then Walter asked, "How are you feeling?"

"Ashamed," Peter said honestly.

"Another feeling I'm well-acquainted with," Walter commented. "What you did… it was incredibly dangerous, and stupid."

"Yeah, you said something to that effect earlier."

Walter took a penlight from his lab coat pocket. "I was angry," he said, switching the light on. "I still am. How could you do that to yourself, Peter? To us?"

"I'm sorry," Peter said. "I didn't… " As Walter shone the penlight into Peter's right eye, he grabbed his head with one hand in pain, pushing the light away with the other. "Stop," he said through gritted teeth, his eyes squeezed shut.

"Shh, it's all right, son, it's all right," Walter said, switching the light off immediately, and putting his arms around Peter. Peter tried to pull away, but Walter held him fast. "Easy… easy…" He took a cloth from a bowl of water on the table next to him, wrung it out, and held it to Peter's forehead. "Better?"

"Not really, but I appreciate the effort," Peter admitted. In a moment, he was finally able to open his eyes and look at Walter. A vague blue haze swam around Walter as he tried to focus. "What's the damage?"

"It's hard to say at this point," Walter said matter-of-factly. "I can confirm that you have a concussion , but other than that, I don't know how much of your brain the tech will permanently affect. The fact that you're experiencing memory and emotion is a very good sign, though." Walter sighed, and put the now-warm cloth back on the table. "Make me understand, Peter. Tell me why you would do something so self-destructive. So foolish. I thought you knew better. I thought you were going to –"

"Be a better man than my father?" Peter said grimly, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "It's hard to try and be better than someone who doesn't even exist anymore."

"I don't know what you mean," Walter said, genuinely confused.

It was Peter's turn to sigh. "I know, Walter, it's not your fault."

"Well, of course it's not. I'm not the one who put dangerous tech inside his head. You should have learned from my mistakes. I know what it's like, Peter. And you've seen firsthand the consequences of playing God."

"I wasn't trying to play God," Peter defended weakly, the pain in his head growing again.

"Weren't you?" Walter said gently.

"I… I don't know. That Observer… he said Etta would never be remembered. That her death was irrelevant. That it meant nothing. I couldn't… it can't mean nothing, Walter. It just can't." He angrily swiped at a tear and took a deep breath. "All the Observers are, are humans enhanced by tech. They bleed, they die. I thought, if I had the tech inside me, I'd be…"

"A better man?" Walter interjected.

Peter laughed ruefully. "Yeah, I guess. I felt so helpless, Walter. I owed it to Etta. I couldn't protect her. I failed her again. And I had to do something."

"Peter, you didn't fail her."

"Is she dead?" Peter snapped. At Walter's silence, he added, "Then I failed her. Again. I couldn't stop them from taking her. I couldn't find her. And now… now, they've killed her, and all I've done is stand around and watch. And I tried, Walter. I swear to God, I tried – to keep her safe, to find her. Hell, I gave up everything to find her. You said so yourself – I abandoned you."

"I may have been a bit melodramatic when I said that," Walter admitted. "But I just don't understand, Peter. Why do you have to go your own way, alone? You promised me you'd help me. You've always helped me."

"Always?" Peter looked at him, incredulous.

"Always. I thought I knew you, son." Walter shook his head sadly.

"Who is it you think you know, Walter? Take out the twenty years we were in amber, and how long have you actually known me?"

"You're my son," Walter said.

"Am I, really? You're my father, but you can't honestly say _I'm_ your son. How far back do your memories of me go?" Walter opened his mouth to speak, but Peter held up a still trembling hand. "_'I know you're not him, my Peter, but you're as close as I'm going to get_.' That's what you told me. And that was okay by me, Walter, it still is. Because I knew that's as close as _I'm_ ever going to get to having the father I remember back."

"Peter, I know it was difficult for you," Walter said, stung.

"You don't," Peter replied matter-of-factly.

"Then tell me," Walter said, with a hint of irritation.

"When you first brought me over to this universe, I was terrified. You looked like my father, you insisted you were my father, but I knew you weren't. Until you and Mom – Elizabeth, whatever – wore me down. 'You were sick, you don't remember…' Until I gave up. But somewhere along the way, you started hating me, and Mom started fearing me."

"Hating you? I could never hate you, don't be ridiculous," Walter said.

"It _wasn't_ you, though, was it? I wasn't focused enough, I didn't apply myself, I wasn't what I should have been. How could I? I was trying to take the place of your dead child. Mom… the guilt showed itself every time she looked at me. She acted like I'd disappear, or run away again."

"You ran away as a child?"

"Yeah. Not long after you took me. I wanted to go home. Mom told me later that I was delirious, I didn't know what I was doing. But I did." Peter chuckled mirthlessly. "Seven years old, and I tried to kill myself."

"I thought you said you wanted to go home." Walter pulled a stool up next to the gurney.

"I did. But I knew that if what I tried didn't work, I'd die. And I didn't care. It was perfectly all right if I did."

"I had no idea," Walter said tearfully.

"Of course you didn't, because you don't remember me. All the years I remember, even you being in St. Claire's… you don't remember any of it. Just like Astrid doesn't remember me, and Broyles doesn't remember me, and Olivia only remembers because she was dosed with so much Cortexiphan her brain went haywire. I'm the guy who's not supposed to be here, Walter. What does it matter what I do? What does it matter if I stick tech in my head? Maybe I could do some good that way, and if I don't, or if I die, it doesn't matter. Because the only memories I've made with you all are gone now. They died with Etta. They started dying the day she was taken."

Walter just stared at him, stunned. "Do… do you really believe that?"

"It feels that way. Olivia started pulling away from me right after that. I wanted to keep looking, I needed to keep looking. I understand why she didn't, but I wish she could have understood why I _did_. For want of a better word, you sided with her – and I understood that. She's the one you've had the relationship with, not me. Your loyalty was to her. Didn't make me feel any less alone, though." Peter scrubbed a hand through his hair, silently pleased when no tufts of hair came out. "I've come to the realization that there's no one who's known me for my whole life. Every few years, it's like I get re-invented – whether by my own choice, or by external forces. The tech? Just another me. I wouldn't be missed any more than I was before."

"How can you even say that?" Walter said, shocked. "Do you honestly think you wouldn't be missed?" At Peter's silence, Walter grabbed his face in both his hands. "Dear God, son, have you absolutely no idea how very much you're loved?"

Peter looked Walter squarely in the eyes. "No," he said simply.

"Walter, are you finished ex - oh, I'm sorry," Olivia said, taking in the sight of a tearful Walter staring mutely into Peter's eyes. "Is everything all right? Peter?"

Clearing his throat and sniffing, Peter pulled gently away from Walter's grasp. "Yeah, Liv, everything's okay." He reached up and pushed an errant, curling strand of gray hair from Walter's brow. "Really. It's okay, Dad. I understand, I don't blame you. And I'm sorry." Peter stood up gingerly, his hand on Walter's shoulder. Kissing the side of Walter's head, he looked to Olivia, gesturing at the blanket she held in her hands. "Is that for me? 'Cause it looks pretty good right now. I'm freezing."

"Yeah, but first things first." She walked over to Peter, stopping inches from him. "I'm sorry, I couldn't get all the blood out of that leather cord you were wearing. You're going to have to carry your ring another way."

"Oh," Peter said softly, the throbbing in his head starting again. "That's okay. Thanks."

"I was thinking... "Olivia continued as she took Peter's left hand in hers. "The easiest way - you know, the way you wouldn't lose it - would be this." Taking Peter's wedding ring from her pocket, she slipped it on the third finger of his hand, caressing it lovingly before tugging him toward her. She watched Peter nod and swallow, his throat constricted with emotion. "Now, let's get you to bed, huh?"

He gave her a half-heartedly wicked smile. "Best offer I've had all day," he joked weakly as she wrapped the blanket around him.

"I'll just bet. C'mon," she smiled, leading him to the bedroom they shared with a steadying arm around his waist.

"Walter, it's gonna be okay," Peter said over his shoulder.

Walter nodded, tears in his eyes. As he watched Olivia shut the door behind them, he finally allowed the tears to fall in earnest. "My son," he sobbed, his hand over his mouth. "I have to remember... somehow, I have to make myself remember." He stood up, a hard look crossing his face. "And I will, no matter what I have to do."

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End file.
